


Storm

by YukiSkyes



Series: Tales From the Mountains of Odvirkast [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 13:38:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10164176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukiSkyes/pseuds/YukiSkyes
Summary: A storm brews in the future distance and Shiro thinks of home when he goes to tame it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sincerely thank you to everyone leaving your support for this series. It gives me the drive to keep going.

Shiro knew about it long before the first visible signs were there.

It was in the wisps of the wind; the impression of unpassionate wrath, the smell of frost, whispers off his scales a ghost of a slash cutting deeper; a taste of what that wind could become.

A large storm was brewing.

“Four days,” Keith frowned, the light from the open door behind him throwing his face in a contrast of thoughtful shadow. “How long is it going to last this time?”

“A day and a half,” Shiro replied soberly.

Pidge looked between them, lips pursed in worry. It was going to be his first storm on Glasycus, after all. He probably didn’t know what to expect.

“The storms here can be pretty harsh, but you’ll be safe. I guide the winds so they won’t be as destructive as they could be,” Shiro reassured, directing Keith’s attention to Pidge as well. He could tell from the subtle shift in Keith’s expression that he was realizing what Shiro had a little earlier. He was confident that in four days’ time, Keith would’ve taught Pidge everything he needed to know about the basics of storm preparation and survival on this mountain.

“What do you mean by guide the winds?” Pidge asked, still a little wide-eyed from anxiousness but also genuine curiosity.

Shiro smiled. He loved and admired Pidge’s inquisitive nature and his drive to pursue his inquiries. It meant an open mind, something Shiro was afforded little of for much of his life but because of which he knew it to be an important basis of not only understanding the world, but other people as well.

He hoped that this would also be what would help Keith to open up to someone other than Shiro.

“I may use magic to manipulate and summon wind, but a storm is a force of nature and it should be allowed to run its natural course. The same goes for any kind of weather, really. Even if it could be destructive, it’s best not meddle with it too much or it might disrupt the pattern of the world and you’ll have a bigger mess on your hands. Instead I just divert it from places as much as I can while it runs.”

“Have you ever tried? Just full-on stopping it I mean,” Pidge prodded, bouncing slightly on the spot.

“Yes, a very long time ago. I almost died from magic exhaustion and the weather was unstable for weeks afterwards, destroying some people’s lives. It wasn’t worth it,” Shiro replied frankly.

Pidge was speechless, gaping mouth drawing like purse strings into an “oh” to which Shiro chuckled. He had long since reconciled with it but the lesson stayed. It was a mistake he would never make again.

“So how bad’s the storm?” Keith interjected, trying to get them back on track.

Shiro had to think for a moment in order to find the words to translate the impressions he received and intuitively understood into precise, accurate descriptive language.

Slowly he said, “Winds are strong and sharp but not enough to topple healthy trees and there’s bits of ice mixed in. The flakes are large too and the snow is going to be heavy enough to bury the house in six feet of it. Temperatures are enough to partially freeze the river at its lowest.”

Keith nodded. “Not that bad this time then.”

“Really? Not that bad?” Pidge parroted voice pitched a bit higher from incredulousness. “Is Keith’s shack even strong enough to survive ‘not that bad’?” he questioned dubiously, turning around to take stock of the rundown wooden structure that also happened to be called a house behind them.

Keith seemed slightly miffed at the slight to his living quarters. “It’s survived worse.”

“Keith’s right. The house is sturdier than it looks, Pidge, no need to worry. Besides, this should be the last severe storm of the season,” Shiro informed, tapping an idle claw against the ground as he listened to the wind again to double-check. Yes, it’s still the same.

Pidge let out an exaggerated breath of relief. “Well that takes a load off my shoulders.”

Keith sent him a withering look, folding his arms. “Do you want to live here or not?”

“Not for the rest of my life like you seem to be keen on if I had the choice,” Pidge replied dryly. “Anyway, thanks for the heads up, Shiro. I guess with that that day and a half out of commission, it’d be a perfect time to focus on my project.”

“Yeah, thanks. We’ll begin preparations in the morning,” Keith said, probably more than glad to move on from the topic of his house.

Shiro nodded. “Take care.”

Keith hesitated as Pidge headed back inside and reached for him.

Shiro complied to the silent request and bumped his snout to his hand.

“Don’t strain too hard,” Keith bid quietly. It was full of worry and memories of close calls. “Be careful out there.”

“I will,” Shiro promised, as sincerely as he could express. “And the same goes for you, Keith. Stay safe.”               

“Yeah.” Keith smiled, small but confident. “How could I not be?”

\---

The first signs came with blankets of gray and ripping wind that shrilled across everything it encountered, stealing the breath from the air.

By the fourth day, flurries of snow were slashing along with the wind, stinging and cold.

Shiro watched the storm come, feeling every shift in its temper and he could feel as it finally unfurled its folds to release its full might.

Shiro unfurled his own wings and flew.

The daggers of wind, snow, and ice glanced off him but the currents shoved and yanked in every direction, snagging at his wings and threatening to toss him like a leaf and cast him to their mercy.

Under him, the panorama of the mountain as he knew in his mind’s map was blanked in rushing white, but he knew Keith and Pidge rested below, sheltered and hopefully warm in their refuge. Further down lay Velkri, closed tight and buildings huddled against the blizzard.

Shiro’s magic surged from him, bursting out and the wind fell in line with him, silk and satin.

Surrounding him, the storm howled and thrashed, but Shiro tucked in its frayed and jagged edges and smoothed it back into itself.

For the hours he weaved among the clouds, he thought of Keith and Pidge in the cabin far on the ground. There would be a fire roaring in the hearth and the two bundled in blankets and furs. Red would at first content with napping but begin pacing as she grew restless trapped in such small quarters for so long.

Pidge would be tinkering away with his magical project; a small scouting golem to help him in his search for his family. He told Shiro all about it enthusiastically and in great detail not so long ago. Maybe Keith, just as bored and cooped up as Red, would engage Pidge in conversation. Maybe he’d even be helping him while trading banter.

As Shiro felt himself start to grow heavier the more time passed, wings strained both to keep him aloft and to fight against the increasingly tumultuous winds as they slowly won against his strength, he imagined Keith with his brows creased together in concentration, too serious for whatever task Pidge assigned him. Maybe he didn’t succeed and created an accident, much to Pidge’s dismay, but they’re able to laugh about it and have some dinner while playfully teasing Red. Maybe he succeeded in helping Pidge, if in a small way, and Pidge would explain to Keith about some of the ins and outs of magic.

Shiro’s wings dragged, tail more burden than limb. His magic wavered but he tried to keep it strong, his physical energy seeping through his hide to generate something he should’ve stopped being able to hours ago.

He’d like that. He liked the thought of Keith having friends outside of Red, who couldn’t speak even if she understood, and himself, who couldn’t share in or do some of the things he wished he could if he weren’t a dragon. Something so simple as taking a walk together had meaning.

He liked the thought of Pidge knowing his search isn’t one he has to be alone in and one in which he could share and pursue his interests with others.

A blast of wind buffeted him and it took him entirely too long to right himself again, lids heavy and vision wavering. There was no air, the wind snatching it away entirely too fast for him to breathe, making his head spin from more than the disorientation.

He wanted that. He wanted to see them again. Shiro had to come home.

Finally, near the storm’s end, with the last utterance of will, he did, but only just, crashing into the mouth of his cave and then he knew no more.

\---

A whiff of smoke teasing at the edges of his senses was how Shiro realized he was conscious again. It was followed by sound, which he eventually realized were words spoken softly in front of him. He swam in disjointed flashes of thoughts for the reason why but gave up when it remained as elusive as water.

He lifted open a lid part of the way, still too heavy with exhaustion to open completely, to a bleary world, but he recognized the source of the smoke he smelled as the bright flickering light of fire. In front of it were two figures he’d recognize instantly anywhere.

“Shiro! You’re awake!” Pidge exclaimed, almost breathless with relief. “I was so worried! Your magic was so low when we found you.”

“Are you okay?” Keith asked immediately after, the concern painfully obvious in his voice.

Shiro wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t have come, not with the snow so deep. Pidge was less of a concern since he could fly, but Keith had to struggle through thick snow down the narrow edge of a sheer drop to get here and he’d have to do it again to get back up and Shiro didn’t have the strength to return him home. How did he even get here? No doubt Pidge helped him. He was going to have to have words with them later.

As it was, the idea alone of Keith slipping off made his heart speed up, the adrenaline helping to wake him up a little more, but he was still too tired to do more than emit a growl of disapproval.

“No, I had to see you to make sure you’re okay,” Keith shot down stubbornly, crossing his arms with that certain obstinate glare that said not even Shiro’s winds would move him.

“Yeah, finding you collapsed at the entrance of the cave wasn’t very promising,” Pidge quipped.

Shiro huffed. There wasn’t a lot he could’ve done about that.

Keith lost his mulish expression and it turned into something softer.

“You’ve been using your magic for more than a whole day straight so that things wouldn’t be so bad. We wanted to do something for you too,” he explained quietly, going up to him and resting a palm against the smaller, thinner scales near his eye.

“But in the end there wasn’t a lot we could do.” Pidge sounded unhappy about that and Shiro let out a disagreeing whine.

Just seeing them safe was already plenty. Shiro couldn’t ask for more.

His disagreement brought a faint smile to Pidge, who managed to interpret it correctly. “Thanks, but even if you don’t think so, we do.”

“So we decided we’d stay here with you. To keep you company at least,” Keith finished, smoothing over his scales.

Shiro closed his eyes. He couldn’t feel more than pressure but that combined with knowing it was from Keith soothed him.

“Just tell us if you need anything else. We’ll get it for you,” Pidge offered, drawing closer and also putting a hand to him, rubbing just to the right of his eye but careful not to accidentally touch it. “In the meantime, you should rest. You deserved it.”

It was with the relaxing patterns of touch and the comfort that the presence of both the people he swore to himself to protect that he fell asleep once more.


End file.
